Birthday Present
by Onesimus42
Summary: A very AU alternative ending for May Day. Written as a little birthday present for Crazy Mary T.
1. Gracie's present

_**This could be considered as an alternative, happy, AU ending to May Day. What it really is, though, is a birthday fic for Crazy Mary T without whom I would never have had 'minute 32', Bailey, or Bubble Bath Jim in my life.**_

_**June 14, 1902**_

Elsie turned around at the loud bang in the direction of the front door of their shop ready to scold whichever boy was being so careless, only to see her curly-headed giant standing with his hat tilted back on his head and a broad grin on his face. She clicked her tongue at him, "Goodness, Charles, you'll break the door. It's no wonder where the boys get their bad habits."

He merely lifted his eyebrows at her and grinned wider before turning to shut the door with exaggerated gentleness. Pausing for a moment, he turned the card around to indicate that the shop was closed. She started to protest, it was the middle of the afternoon after all, but he shushed her with a finger to his lips. With an equally exaggerated flourish, he drew the shades over the front windows and door and then turned back to her with a predatory gleam in his eye.

"Husband, whatever are you doing? It's the middle of the afternoon, there's still plenty of business to be done," she said, unable to contain her laugh as she could easily deduce his intentions.

He stepped to her in two quick strides and leaned down with hands clasped behind his back to whisper in her ear, "Have you forgotten what today is?"

She turned her head slightly to kiss his cheek, "Of course not. It's Friday, and one of our busiest days of the week."

"Nothing else special about today, then?" he asked, leaning back to look in her eyes with a smile playing about his lips.

Stretching to wrap her arms around his neck, she pretended to think carefully, "Well, I had hoped to reorganize the cellar tonight. We'll get a new shipment in a couple of days."

"Reorganize the cellar?" he asked in astonishment, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her closer.

She looked at him innocently, "What else would we do with our time?"

"Considering," he said before kissing her forehead gently, "that I," his lips moved down to her nose, "took the time to," a much longer kiss was placed on her lips, "make sure that Henry and Geoffery," he bypassed her chin to nibble at the skin beneath her left ear, "will be spending the night building a 'fort' at the Masons," he smiled at her sigh, "I would think we could come up with something much better to do on our anniversary."

She tilted her neck away from his distracting attentions, "And Gracie?"

"Is staying with your sister," he said, lifting his hands to the front of her blouse.

"What does she think?" she asked, reaching for his tie and pulling him back toward the steps.

He looked at her in confusion before becoming engrossed once more in an exploration of her lips, "Who?"

"My sister," she clarified when he finally relinquished her lips, "what does she think we're doing?"

"Working on Gracie's birthday present," he answered with another leering grin, as he reached for the fastenings of her skirt.

She grasped his hands and held them against her hips for a moment, "Charles, Gracie's birthday is nine months away."

"Exactly," he nodded, working his hands free and loosening the first few buttons on her skirt, "she asked for a little sister."

"Well, if that's what she wants…," she said before capturing his lips with a hungry kiss, "Happy June 14th, dear husband."

"Happy Anniversary, dear wife," he said seriously as her skirt fell to the floor.

_**Reviews are welcome as always. **_


	2. Midnight snack

_**This is a continuation of my happy, very alternative, AU to make kouw happy. Also, it distracts me from the angst.**_

_**Disclaimer: They obviously don't belong to me because this is what would have happened in the prequel to Downton Abbey.**_

**Ripon August, 1902**

Charles was awakened by tossing and turning beside him, then he felt her weight lift from the bed. He opened his eyes and looked at her sleepily, "What is it, love? You've not been comfortable all night."

She whispered back so as to not wake Gracie who was sleeping on her little bed by the wall, "I'm so hot. I just can't get comfortable tonight. Go back to sleep. I'm going down to get a little something to eat."

He sat up at that and scooted over to sit on her side of the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close so that he could kiss her belly, "It's official, then. How far along do you think?"

She played with his hair and looked at him in exasperation, "Just because I want a midnight snack does not mean…"

"Of course not," he cut her off patiently, still whispering, "Although I can't ever recall your wanting a snack this late except when you were expecting. There have been some other changes, though."

"Other changes?"

He opened his mouth to remark but was cut off by Gracie crying out in her sleep, "You tend to her and I'll fix you a little something to eat. Come down when you're ready."

She barely heard his last words because she had already moved to the side of the little bed and was smoothing back their little girl's ginger hair.

Charles pulled on his robe and shuffled into his slippers before making his way down the stairs. Goodness knew he had an idea of what she'd want; they'd been through this often enough. Shaking his head in amusement, he thought he'd have to budget a bit more for groceries in the coming months. Tomatoes were what she'd wanted last time. He wondered if he could get any this late in the year. It never ceased to amaze him how much his little wife could eat during this time.

By the time she'd quieted Gracie, he had taken mental stock of their store cupboard while he made two sandwiches from the leftover chicken and had spread a generous amount of blackberry preserves onto some thick slices of bread. He was just pouring two glasses of cold milk when she walked wearily into the kitchen.

He lifted his eyebrow at her in question and motioned for her to sit down and begin eating.

"She had a nightmare," she answered his unspoken query, "I think someone has been telling her stories."

"Someone as in one of the boys?" he asked gruffly.

She nodded, "She wouldn't say which but I would bet on Henry. Geoff's always so protective. I can't imagine he'd try to scare her."

"Henry is the mischievous one," he agreed grimly, "but I doubt he meant it maliciously. Regardless, I will have a talk with him tomorrow."

She laid her hand on his arm, "Don't be too harsh. He's just careless sometimes."

"I know that," he said around a mouthful of sandwich, "but it is our job to teach him to be more careful." Then looking at her pointedly, he commanded, "Eat, woman. I've slaved over that snack for you for all of five minutes."

She began to eat with relish and was reaching for a piece of preserve laden bread before he'd even finished half his sandwich. He snorted, and her hand paused with the bread in it. She looked at him defensively, "I'm just very hungry, that's all."

"Yes, dear," he nodded with a quirked eyebrow.

She watched him steadily for a moment and took a sip of her milk, "What other changes?"

"Beg pardon?" he asked, distractedly looking over the bread to see which seemed to have the most preserves.

"You said you noticed other changes," she said, handing him the largest piece, "What have you noticed?"

"Well," he began thoughtfully, pausing to chew, "there's the temperature thing. Any other time, I'm the one who's hot, and you're always cold. Now I'll grant you it's still a bit warm now, but every time you've been expecting I've nearly frozen to death."

She nodded, point taken, "And?"

"Your marvelous breasts get even more marvelously full," he said with a leer and took a large sip of his milk.

"You noticed that too?" she asked, crinkling her nose at the milk, "I think I'll make tea."

He grasped her wrist, "You will not. The doctor said last time you should drink all the milk you could, good for the baby, and you should limit your tea."

"Don't be silly," she scoffed, "doctors don't know everything." But she sat back in her chair and drank her milk with a grimace.

He cleared his throat and added his final observation to get her mind off the tea, "Finally, there's the, um, ah, how should I put this? The eagerness."

"Eager for what?" she asked with a smile playing about her lips.

He shot her a disbelieving look and popped the last of the bread into his mouth, chewing carefully and thoughtfully to her increasing frustration. He waited until she was ready to scold him and then leaned toward her, speaking in a low and seductive voice, "Oh I believe you know my little Scottish minx. Last Thursday in the storeroom you nearly accosted me, and Sunday in the church for heaven's sake."

"Thursday was a slow day, and you were on that ladder," she said defensively, "And I don't think heaven will mind a wife touching her husband's knee, even in church."

He snorted, nearly choking on the milk. When his coughing fit subsided, he said, "If you think that's my knee, woman, you need an anatomy lesson."

"Care to be the one who gives it to me?" she asked, looking at him through her lashes.

He stood, pulling her with him toward the settee, "Gladly."

By the time they'd made it to the settee, he had her nightdress half unbuttoned and was nuzzling her neck. He stopped abruptly and teased, "Wait, won't this just make you hotter? You couldn't sleep before as it was. Perhaps we should stop."

"This is better than sleep," she said, grasping the lapels of his robe and pulling him closer, "And it should make me hotter if you know what you're doing. Stop being so cheeky."

He smiled and bent back to her neck, "I thought you liked my cheek, or should I say cheeks. At least that's what you said on Thursday."

She laughed and gave the body part in question a squeeze, "They are rather nice. You shouldn't blame me for looking. They were at just the right level with you on that ladder."

"I don't blame you for looking but touching when I was up on that ladder with my arms full, what if I'd fallen?" Lifting his lips from her neck to her mouth, he kissed her deeply. Then pressing his forehead to hers he whispered, "Have you done the thing yet?"

"I thought that was what we were about to do."

"Now who's cheeky?" he asked in exasperation, "I mean the thing with your ring. To see if, um, number four," he placed his hand on her abdomen, "is going to be a girl or a boy."

"Oh, no," she said, smile widening, "I wasn't completely sure yet, and I wanted to wait for you at any rate."

He released her suddenly and went to her sewing basket, returning with a bit of string. Holding the string out to her, he looked at her with eagerness to break down any resistance.

She took the string from him and slid her wedding ring off her finger, grumbling quietly, "Couldn't this have waited until we finished?"

"It won't take a minute," he placated her, "And then I'll be able to concentrate better."

Tying the ring carefully to the string, she lay back on the settee, holding it over her abdomen. He sat with her feet in his lap and watched her anxiously. He always anticipated this little test almost as much as the actual birth and it hadn't been wrong yet.

Very slowly, the ring started to turn in circles, and he couldn't hold in his excitement, "Lovely! A little sister for Gracie, just what she wanted. He started to reach for the string, but then it stopped rotating and started to swing slowly back and forth.

He looked into her surprised eyes with confusion, "What does that mean? Circles mean a girl, back and forth a boy. We can't be having both, can we?"

She swallowed hard and then caught the ring up in her hand. Looking at him with a knowing smile, she said, "There is one way that could happen, dear husband."

"That doesn't make any sense! It's just not possible," he blustered, then realization dawned, "Oh; both a boy _and _a girl," he gulped, "We need a bigger house."

"That we will," she agreed and pulled him into her arms, "But tonight you need to teach me more about anatomy."

"Ah, yes," he said, taking her hand in his and placing it on his knee, "This is my knee," then he pulled her hand toward his lap, "This is not."

She laughed and straddled his lap, "Very useful information," and leaned down to kiss him hungrily.

They spent the rest of the night studying.

_**Reviews are welcome as always**_


	3. Early arrivals

_**And…the happy, alternatively, AU continues because I don't feel like writing angst today. I hope you enjoy. Happy Birthday Miss Puppet!**_

_**Ripon January 1903**_

Elsie lay as still as she could for as long as she could, Charles behind her with his arm draped over her waist, hand supporting her full belly. Finally, the pressure in her back became more than she could bear, and she lifted his hand out of the way so that she could rise without disturbing him. No need for both of them to have a sleepless night. He stirred and pulled her closer in his sleep, blowing out a sighing breath over her neck. She wriggled a little to free herself, and his eyes popped open, fully awake. "It's time?" he asked with a slight note of surprise.

"What makes you think that?" she asked, sitting up on the side of the bed.

"You've been cleaning like mad for the past two days, and I've felt the muscles tightening all night," he rose on his elbow to watch her carefully.

"I don't know," she admitted with a grimace and knuckled the small of her back, "But my back has been hurting more today. "

He sat up behind her and rubbed her lower back, unable to keep the note of worry out of his voice as he tried to reassure her, "Maybe this is just a false alarm. It's early yet."

"Twins come early sometimes," she said sensibly, "Besides, as I recall Henry was a full two months early."

Charles snorted at her attempted humor, "Henry's always been the eager one, that's true, but I think only two of those weeks were due to him. The other six were more because his mother was the eager one, I believe. Otherwise he wouldn't have weighed eight pounds."

She had risen and was pacing back and forth beside the bed, wincing at the cramps in her back, but she clicked her tongue at him all the same, "His mother was just an innocent maid, pure as the driven snow, seduced by that rogue of a valet."

"Rogue, am I?" he asked with mock indignation as he rose to pull on his trousers, "That valet was perfectly willing to wait until you'd made an honest man out of him, but you drug him to that empty room and plied him with punch."

She snorted, "I believe that the punch was purely your idea, Mr. Carson, and not the best one you've ever had. Where are you going?"

"To fetch the doctor," he said and then corrected himself when she winced again and rubbed her back, "Or better yet, I'll send Henry. I don't like to leave you like this. At the very least, you should let the doctor check you."

"Charles," she said patiently, "If it's time, it's time. There's nothing to be done about it. And you know as well as I do that it'll likely be hours yet."

"I don't know about that," he said, smiling, "If those are cramps that you're having there's only about two minutes in between."

"For heaven's sake," she said, exasperated now, "My water's not even broke…" then her eyes widened at the sudden sensation, "Go and fetch the doctor. Now!"

"Henry!" he shouted over his shoulder and then moved to the door, "Get your trousers on and come here immediately! Geoff; you too!"

Turning back to Elsie, he asked worriedly, "Shouldn't you lie down or something?"

"Calm down, dear," she said, sitting down on the bed and rubbing her lower abdomen, "It's not as though we've not been through this before."

"I've not!" he rounded on her with a note of panic now evident in his voice, "The others all came at a sensible time and with your sister here." He went to the door again, "Henry!" and grunted when both boys ran solidly into his chest. Elsie noticed between contractions that Henry only had one shoe on and his shirt half-tucked. Geoff was dressed as neat as if he'd been up for an hour, not a hair out of place. She shook her head in amusement and then winced at the pain shooting through her abdomen.

Charles turned to the boys and gave them their instructions with military precision, "Henry, go and fetch the doctor immediately. Don't leave him until you're sure he's fully awake and on his way. You have my permission to make as much noise as possible to get him here. Then go and get your Aunt Sarah, tell her the babies are coming," when Henry paused for longer than he thought necessary, he commanded, "Now, son! Don't dally!"

Henry started to run when Charles obviously finally noticed the state he was in. He grabbed him by the back of his trousers and pulled him back, "On second thought, Geoff, you go. At least you've already got your shoes on. But mind what I said; do whatever you have to do to get him here as soon as possible." Geoff was away before he even finished his instructions, and Elsie soon heard him racing down the steps. Charles then turned back to his disheveled son, "Henry, go check on your sister. Where is she, by the way?"

"Don't you remember, Da?" he asked patiently, "She's at Aunt Sarah's because Mum was tired."

Just then Elsie couldn't suppress a muffled moan and both boys turned to her with eyes wide as saucers. She would have laughed at how perfectly alike they were if her back wasn't hurting so much.

Charles stepped toward the bed and instructed Henry distractedly over his shoulder, "Um, go and fetch some towels then, a lot of towels. All we have."

Elsie tried to smile up at him reassuringly, "I think perhaps you should wash your hands, Charles. Just in case."

"Just in case what?" he asked, voice rising significantly in pitch on the last word.

"I'm not sure if the doctor will make it here on time," she grimaced and then took quick short breaths while she waited for the pain to pass.

"You can't!" he exclaimed, definitely fully panicked now, "You'll just have to wait."

Ignoring his comment for the nonsense that it was, she started to give him instructions on what he needed to do. Watching his face, she saw that he was sweating profusely and the blood had completely drained away, "Sit down! You look like you're going to pass out."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his shaking hand through his already disheveled hair. When the next contraction gripped her, she closed her eyes in an effort to ignore the pain. As the pain slowly subsided, she felt his hand on hers and looked up into his gentle smile. The color had returned to his face a little, and his eyes were steady now instead of darting around the room looking for an escape. She smiled despite the pain because she knew that she could always count on his support, no matter how frightened he was himself.

**_C~C~E_**

By the time that Dr. Banks arrived, Charles was carrying dirty linens down the stairs, carefully watching his steps.

"Well, then," the doctor said, "it would seem that the rush is over. Is everyone well?"

Charles looked at him in frustrated anger, "They are. No thanks to you, Jack. Henry has Mary and Elsie is nursing Victor. When she's finished you can go up."

The doctor relaxed a little, "Charles, I got over here as quickly as I could. How was I to know they'd come this quick? You and Elsie just have headstrong children, that's all."

Charles grinned, partially in agreement with the doctor but mostly in relief, "The stubbornness is purely on Elsie's side. I can assure you of that."

"Speaking of stubborn children, what did you tell Geoff? He nearly drug me out of bed and dressed me himself. I've never seen him like that."

"I merely told him that he had my permission to do anything necessary to get you here as quickly as possible. He's nothing if not obedient," Charles pushed the linens into the laundry to deal with later while he spoke and stepped over to wash his hands, "Would you like a cup of tea? Elsie asked for some."

"No, thank you," he answered sitting down at the kitchen table with a sigh, almost as comfortable in their kitchen as he was in his own, "Charles, you two really need to learn to play chess, or cards, or backgammon, or something else to pass the time. I don't know that the world can handle many more Carsons."

Charles chuckled as he spooned tea into the pot, "We'll have to see. Gracie wanted a little sister, but she got a little brother as well. She might not be happy with just one sister and three brothers. Although I think our girls are pretty enough to need three brothers to protect them."

"If your latest daughter is as pretty as Gracie, then you're right," he replied, "You two do make beautiful children. Stubborn, but beautiful."

"We do," Charles agreed proudly, as he lifted the kettle off the stove, "I'm glad we found each other. I would never have wanted to travel through life without her or them. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go check on my wife and beautiful family. When she's ready, I'll send Henry down to fetch you."

_**Reviews are welcome as always.**_


	4. Blackmail

_**A little more of my happy, extremely AU crack-fic, because kouw blackmailed me. **_

**Ripon 1910**

Elsie watched as Charles knotted his tie fiercely in the mirror. He wasn't happy, and he was going to make sure that everyone knew it if she didn't do something to diffuse his temper. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He paused for just a moment and gave her a half-hearted sideways smile before returning his death glare to the mirror.

"Charles, love," she said, soothingly, "it is not the end of the world."

"Not for us at least," he said gruffly, "but I don't know about Henry."

She snorted, "Ethel's not that bad!"

He lifted an eyebrow at her and tugged the end of his tie through the knot with a sharp tug. "I still have a feeling that we're going to get an 'announcement' in a couple of weeks and a grandchild in seven months or so."

"Would it matter so much?" she asked, "They would be married."

"I don't like to think that Henry _has_ to get married," he said.

She dropped her arms from his waist and stepped back, her mouth set in a thin line. "As you did?"

He rounded on her in astonishment. "That was completely different and you know it. I had every intention of marrying you. We didn't even find out until I had already come back to fetch you."

"Henry was still born a little early, though, wasn't he?"

His voice rose, "And what did that matter? We were already married, weren't we?"

She smiled but tried to keep the smugness out of it, "My point exactly, Charles Carson."

"My point, Elsie Carson," he glared at her, "is that they're too young. They have no idea what they're doing."

She lifted an eyebrow at him, "If you think there's going to be an announcement soon, they must have had some idea of what they were doing."

"Elsie!" he admonished with a shudder, "I really don't want to think about that."

"Charles," she said, trying to placate him, "they're young and in love. We were young and in love once as well."

He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her toward him, "We're still in love, I hope?" he looked at her questioningly and continued at her warm nod, "And you certainly don't have to be young to do that. I think we get better together every year."

"We do," she agreed, "but we're no longer reckless."

He grinned, "You mean reckless enough to make love when there's a church full of people waiting for us?"

As he spoke, he drew her closer so that he could nuzzle her neck. After a few moments, she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

"Charles Carson," she said, "Don't you dare. I'll not be late to my own son's wedding."

"It wouldn't take long," he whispered against her lips before kissing her.

She laughed into his mouth and he pulled back obviously disappointed. "Telling me you'll be quick isn't exactly the best way to seduce me."

He leaned down to speak in his deepest, most seductive voice in her ear, "Don't try to tell me you don't like it quick and hard sometimes as well, woman."

A shudder ran through her body, and her lips parted to take a deep breath. "I always like it hard," she said, letting the back of her hand trail over the front of his trousers, "but I think after the way you've acted for the last week, I deserve long and slow as an apology."

He put his hand on her waist to draw her flush against him, "Oh, I see. It's an apology you're wanting. Well, as you can feel, you will have long and hard, but I can't promise you slow. It has been a while, after all."

She rolled her eyes at his joke, but rubbed her hips against his. "Four days?"she asked incredulously.

"As I said, a very long time," he said, leaning down again to brush her lips.

"Then you may have to apologize more than once," she whispered in his ear before tracing the outline with the tip of her tongue, and she felt a shudder run through him.

"How long will this blasted wedding take?" he growled.

She nibbled his neck for good measure and whispered against the moist skin, "Not long, but the wedding breakfast is a different thing all together."

"And they'll all be here?" he asked, frustration evident, "So we can't just sneak away?"

"They'll all be here," she nodded, "And I doubt any of your children will thank you if we sneak upstairs for a quick one."

"Fine," he said, "I suppose we should be going then. I'll manage to wait a little longer."

"Poor you," she laughed, "I suppose I could take pity on you and tell you that Gracie and the twins will be spending the night with Sarah."

"They will?" he brightened as he opened the bedroom door, "Perhaps we'll just open the shop late tomorrow. We can use the wedding as an excuse."

"And Geoff will be at the Masons," she said, swaying as she walked toward the stairs.

He looked at her appreciatively as she passed, "The shop will be closed tomorrow."

_**Reviews are welcome as always. **_


	5. Birthday

_**I had to do a chapter for my birthday. It's pretty pointless, just a little domestic interlude. I hope you enjoy. I needed some pleasantness after reading too many spoilers.**_

_**Disclaimer: I obviously don't own them, or they would be a lot happier.**_

**January 19, 1911**

Charles's eyes popped open when he felt a blast of cold air from the door. He scanned the room for a moment, disoriented, before his gaze landed on his wife who was smiling at him from the doorway.

"For heaven's sake, Charles," she said as she pulled off her gloves, "What are you doing asleep in that chair? You'll never work the cramp out of your neck."

He smiled sleepily and started to shake his head at her in amusement only to be stopped short by a sharp pain in his neck. He winced and jerked as a spasm ran through his left shoulder to the back of his head. Elsie was at his side in a moment with her hands expertly finding the offending muscle to work loose the knot. He gasped at the icy coldness of her hands at first but then sighed in relief after just a moment's massage. After years of practice she knew exactly what to do. When the pain in his neck subsided, he registered the cold that was still radiating from her body. Grasping her hands to pull them from his neck, he rose so that he could pull her properly into his arms.

"You're frozen to the bone," he exclaimed, running his hands briskly up and down her back to warm her. "Didn't Henry drive you home?"

She sank gratefully against his chest, and he drew her even closer into his warmth. After a moment, she shivered and said, "I wouldn't let him. It's just a short walk, and I didn't want him to leave Ethel and Charlie alone."

Charles snorted, "He should have insisted. A boy should take care of his mother."

"A man should take care of his wife," she corrected him softly.

"Hmmmph," he sniffed, "You're right about that. Next time, I'll come to fetch you."

She laughed softly, and he heard the drowsiness in her voice as she started to warm, "I wasn't hinting at that, and you know it. I was just saying that Henry's responsible for his own family now."

"I have to admit," he nodded, "but just to you, mind, that I'm impressed with just how responsible he's become."

"He's in love with his wife and son," she answered, pulling back so that she could work her buttons loose, "And he had an excellent example, I might add."

"Who would that be?" Charles teased, helping her out of her coat, "Dr. Banks or Mr. Mason? Go into the kitchen while I hang your coat. I've water nearly hot for a cup of tea to warm you."

"I meant you, you old codger," she answered with a sniff, "Fishing for compliments!"

"Old codger?" he asked, "Well, that's a fine compliment. Remind me to not come fishing in your stream."

"You'd best not be fishing in any other streams," she said with mock severity, "And I'd rather have you to warm me than a cup of tea."

"I haven't fished in any other streams since I found the perfect one," he said sincerely as he came to stand beside her and wrap his arms around her. "I'm far too tired to hunt for other streams," he yawned against her cheek.

"So if you weren't too tired you'd go searching?" she asked, rubbing her cheek against his.

"No," he said forcefully, turning her in his arms so that he could look fully in her face, "I'd go fishing in my own private stream more often."

She nodded her approval of his answer and stood on her toes so that she could kiss him properly. Twenty years and thousands of kisses after their first one, she still took his breath away, and he felt his tired body respond. She smiled against his lips in a way that let him know she had felt it too.

"I'm sorry love," he murmured as he drew back, "You must be exhausted."

"I am," she nodded, and added when he yawned again, "And you must be too. Let's go up to bed. I'll be staying at my own home tomorrow."

"You think Ethel will make do without you?" he asked as they started up the stairs.

She sighed, "She'll have to eventually, poor thing. She can't help it if she's an orphan and not been around children much. She hardly knew what to do at first, but she loves the wee bairn. And she loves our Henry too, that much is certain."

"Perhaps you might check in on them just for a moment tomorrow," he said, "We can manage without you for a bit. I do need to talk to you about Victor, though."

She looked at him with a worried frown, but by this time they were to the top of the stairs so she held her tongue while she checked into each of her children's rooms to see that they were sleeping soundly. Geoff was lying on top of his bed reading but was too engrossed in his book to notice her until she cleared her throat loudly. He smiled and jumped up to give her a bear hug and kiss on her forehead before she ordered him back to bed.

After a short conversation with Geoff, she joined Charles to find that he was already in his nightclothes and sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her. She waited until she was out of her dress and pulling her nightdress over her head before asking, "What's the boy done this time?"

"Now, Elsie, don't get too wound up," he said soothingly, "It's harmless enough."

"Charles," she warned, "Tell me what he's done."

"Well, you know that he wants to be a detective," he began, meeting her eyes in the mirror while he drew the pins from her hair. He continued at her slow nod, "Somehow he managed to convince Geoff to order him some disguises…"

"Disguises?" she exclaimed, twirling to face him with her hair swinging around her shoulders, "Where does one order disguises? Is there some sort of detective catalog?"

"I believe it was from a theatrical company," he answered with a snort and uplifted eyebrows, "Fake beard, mustaches and such."

"Go on," she said shaking her head slowly, eyes narrowed, "What did your son do with all that fake hair?"

"My son?" he asked incredulously, "He takes more after your side of the family I think."

"One of us spent some time on the stage," she said quietly but with a light kiss on the lips to soften her words, "And it was not on my side of the family."

His cheeks tinted faintly, but he smiled and nodded his acknowledgement of her point. He cleared his throat and continued, "Regardless of who he takes after, his activities will need to be curtailed. He was, according to him, practicing in the back garden. According to Mrs. Smyre, he was snooping; scared her half out of her wits, I believe."

A snort escaped Elsie before she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh Charles, not her! She already thinks we're horrible after that day in the fall."

He grinned, "I had forgotten about that. Serves her right then. She was the one caught snooping that time, wasn't she?"

She rolled her eyes at him, "I hardly think seeing your bum through a wide open kitchen window could be considered snooping. I told you to pull the curtains."

"I was in a hurry to please my eager wife as I recall, but there you have it. She shouldn't have been looking through our kitchen window. She should have been minding her own business."

"Charles," she said patiently as she pulled back the covers to climb into bed, "She just trying to have her tea. You forget there's a clear view from her kitchen to ours when the leaves are off the trees."

"I'm not even sure she really saw anything," he said thoughtfully as he lay down heavily beside her, drawing her head to his shoulder.

Elsie merely snorted and laughed.

"What? You disagree?" he asked pulling back to look down at her.

"She kept asking you to fetch things off the high shelves for weeks after that so that you would have to climb that ladder," Elsie said, "And I'm fairly sure I caught her watching you walk away at church one Sunday."

"Oh, is that why you always wait on her now?" he asked, then his eyebrows furrowed, "Come to think of it, haven't you been sending me to the storeroom when she comes in?"

"Yes, I have," she answered smoothing her hands over his chest, "Someone must protect my poor innocent dove."

"Dove, codger, nice to know you have a high opinion of me," he teased as he scooted down the bed and turned to face her.

"After twenty odd years I think you know my opinion of you, dear husband," she brushed her lips against his before parting them with her tongue.

He returned the kiss affectionately for a moment and then trailed kisses along her cheek bone to nibble at the skin below her ear.

After just a few moments, he drew back. No need to start something he was too tired to finish.

"Do you have any suggestions for dealing with your wayward son?" he asked.

"Hmm, who, what?" she asked, distracted, "Oh, you mean Victor? I suppose you've already had him apologize and given him one of your famous talks?"

He nodded, "Of course, I growled at him sufficiently for the offense and made him apologize immediately, although Mrs. Smyre did seem to want me to stay in her kitchen for longer than I wished…" He trailed off thoughtfully and she swatted his chest.

"I'll speak to her in the future, thank you," she said, giving him a steady glare.

He laughed softly, "I told him we would wait until I had discussed it with you to decide the proper punishment."

"I suppose he can investigate the storeroom while he's unpacking the supplies," she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder again.

"About that," he said, hesitating to bring the next subject up, "I think I should take Geoff to Manchester with me tomorrow."

"To meet with that man?" she asked, and he could hear the hitch in her voice.

He nodded, "It would be a good opportunity for him. He'll be a clerk and maybe eventually even solicitor. Mr. Crawley seems a nice enough man."

"I know that he should, but does it have to be so soon?"

"We've brought them up so that they can be on their own, love," he answered gently, "Can you really see Geoff as a shopkeeper?"

"No," she shook her head against his chest, "Is he any relation?"

"Well, I've thought all this time he was your son, but I wasn't actually in the room when you had him," he said dryly, earning his chest another swat and the pleasure of hearing her laughter.

"I meant Mr. Crawley," she said firmly, "Is he any relation to your former employer?"

"I don't know, perhaps, but it would have to be distant. No relation of an Earl would be a mere solicitor."

"Snob," she yawned, "Take him. You're right, of course. I just wish all my babies weren't leaving at once."

He snorted, "Babies! Geoff is twice your size. Even the twins are almost taller than you."

"Not my fault I fell in love with a man that was too tall," she sniffed.

He smoothed his thumb below her shoulder, "Go to sleep before your too tall, codger, dove, lover, and dear husband forgets how tired we both are and decides to ravish you on your birthday."

She yawned against his chest again and said, "You can give me my birthday present tomorrow night."

"Happy birthday, love," he began but was cut off by her soft snore.

Smiling, he rolled away from her and blew out the lamp before settling down to sleep himself in the arms of his one true love.

_**Reviews are welcome as always. Unhappy storylines from JF are not.**_


	6. Fangirls

_**Here's a silly addition to my AU of an AU. In this world, Charles & Elsie were married in 1892 immediately following their meeting in my story **__**May Day**__**. This story is just a bit of silliness and fun. **_

**Ripon, May 1912**

Charles sat down with pleasure to wait for his tea, enjoying his afternoon off. Taking William on as an assistant/apprentice had been an excellent idea. He had picked up the basics of running the shop quickly enough that Charles and Elsie felt comfortable leaving him alone on occasion and if, as Charles suspected, he married Gracie one day then he'd already have the necessary experience. Glancing over at his wife who was checking the cake she was making for dinner, he thought she appreciated their occasional free afternoons as well. With a smile, he remembered their last free afternoon and stood to move behind her so that he could rest his hands on her hips and press against her while she was bent over the oven.

"Charles," she swatted half-heartedly at him behind her back, "we've no time for that, besides the girls are just upstairs."

As if to prove her words, a burst of giggling floated down the stars, and Charles let his hands drop to his sides, sat back down in his chair, and picked up the newspaper with a growl of frustration. His growl turned quickly to a grunt of surprise.

"What is it? More bad news?" Elsie asked, looking at him with a worried frown.

Holding up his holey paper, he said, "I wouldn't know. Someone seems determined that I shan't read it."

"Those girls!" Elsie exclaimed with a click of her tongue, "I told them they had to wait until we were finished reading it."

Charles folded the paper together and threw it down on the table in disgust, rising to lift the boiling kettle from the stove so that he could wet the tea. "Whatever could the girls be wanting with cutting up the paper?"

"Charles, dear, there's no need to be upset," she began carefully, "it's harmless enough."

"Not to my paper!" he exclaimed, frowning at her. His frown quickly turned to an approving smile when she bent to pull her cake from the oven. "That looks good," he said warmly.

"I'm glad," Elsie said, "I hope it tastes good as well. It's a new recipe from Chelsie's mother, called for whiskey."

Charles leered at her and drew her close with a hand on her hip, "It does taste good as well, and I'm sure that the cake will be fine."

She swatted his hand away again with a smile, "You need to pour that tea unless you want it to stand up and walk out the spout."

He harrumphed but moved away to pour milk, tea and a bit of honey into two cups. "Now tell me about these harmless girls that have destroyed my paper."

"Well, you know Chelsie from next door?"

He nodded, "Upstairs even as we speak giggling hysterically with Mary."

"And Wendy, the vicar's daughter?"

"Likewise," he cringed as another bout of giggling drifted downstairs.

"And Gracie's friend, Lianne? Who's sweet on Geoff?"

"Of course I do!" he said, exasperated, "For heaven's sake woman is this some type of newspaper vandalizing gang?"

"Taste this to see if it's fit to eat," Elsie smiled, pulling the cake deftly from the pan and cutting a thin slice to put on a plate for him. At his uplifted eyebrow, she cut a thicker slice. "It isn't really a gang per se, but I would guess that our paper isn't the only one with holes in it."

Charles was growing more and more puzzled but hid his frustration by taking a large bite of cake, "Mmmm. The best you've ever made."

"Flatterer. You say that every time," she leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead.

He swallowed thoughtfully and took a sip of tea. "Now, I think you need to explain to me why all these girls are cutting up papers."

Elsie sighed and rolled her eyes, "William Gillette."

"Who's that?" Charles growled, drawing his eyebrows dangerously low, "And what has he done to my girls?"

"Not a thing," Elsie said quickly, soothing him with a hand on his arm and then added under her breath, "Although I doubt the same could be said for him if he ever came across their path."

Charles shook his head in confusion, "Explain yourself a little better woman."

"He's an actor," Elsie explained, "Plays Sherlock Holmes among other things and far older than any of the girls. Nearly your age, I'd guess. The girls have all taken a liking to him. They cut out pictures for their scrapbooks and get together to moon over them. I gather from Chelsie's mother that there's almost a competition to see who can get the pictures fastest."

Charles snorted, "All that giggling is over pictures? It's probably that Wendy that started everything. Vicar's daughters are always the worst."

Elsie lifted her eyebrows at him, "My understanding is that Mary's the ringleader."

"Mary?" he asked in genuine surprise, reaching for the knife to cut another slice of cake, "Our little Mary is the general of this gaggle of giggling girls? Has she gone crazy? Besides I thought she liked that Malcolm boy. The one you say looks like me."

Elsie swatted his hand away from the cake, "The rest of that is for tonight. Have a bit of bread if you're still hungry."

She laughed at his hurt look but didn't relent. "Our Mary isn't so little any more, or Victor either for that matter. I caught Chelsie asking him about his disguises with a dreamy look. As if he needed encouragement!"

"Good lad!" Charles said with a broad smile as he buttered his bread, then he noticed Elsie's frown. Drawing the corners of his mouth down, he said, "I mean I'll have a talk with him. He's far too young for that sort of thing."

Elsie nodded her approval of his change of tune and sighed, "Children are such trouble. Whatever were we thinking having so many?"

"Well," he said with a leer before popping part of his bread into his mouth, "The getting of them was no trouble at all, and I don't remember you complaining at the time."

She smiled fondly at the memories and said, "No I didn't mind the getting of them at all, and I wouldn't take a million pounds for any of them. But I wouldn't give you a sixpence for another one."

He smiled, "Should we be worried that our girls are mooning over this fellow? I suppose I should be grateful that it's just Mary. At least Gracie's got a good head on her shoulders. "

She shook her head vigorously and he asked, "Gracie too? I thought her and William…"

She nodded, "Oh she loves William I believe, but this Gillette fellow. He's, well, he's…" she broke off with a sigh, a smile, and a far-off look in her eyes.

"Not you too!" Charles said with narrowed eyes.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Elsie said, rolling her eyes at him, "It's not as if I'd ever have the opportunity."

Charles continued to glare at her, and his mouth drew down in a frown.

She looked at him nervously, "That is, even if I did have the opportunity, I'm sure that no one could hold a candle to my dear husband."

He nodded, satisfied. "Now back to the girls. Do you think it's safe for them to be so interested in this fellow?"

"I think it's better than them mooning over the lads around here. At least there's little chance of them sneaking off behind a shed with this fellow." Her voice trailed off as she suddenly remembered something or someone. "Speaking of which, where's Gracie?" I didn't hear her come home this afternoon."

Charles was distracted again by buttering his bread and said off-handedly, "She's probably just stopped in at the store to see William."

Elsie bumped his elbow to get his attention, "William Mason? The lad who's been in love with her for ages? The William Mason that she wrote 'Mrs. William Mason' all over her school book?"

"Of course it's that William Mason," Charles scoffed, taking a bite of his bread, "How many William Masons do we…" He broke off as he realized what Elsie was so worried about. "Oh! I need to get back to the store. Where's my coat? And my hat?"

He rose in a near panic and strode quickly to the door, holding the bread in his mouth while he pulled his coat on. Elsie clapped his hat on his head as he opened the door.

"Wait," she said, stopping him as he started out the door, "Take this as well." And she thrust his walking stick into his hands.

"Good idea," he nodded and started back out the door.

She called after him, "Don't forget to check behind the sheds."

_**Reviews are welcome, unless you are too busy fangirling.**_


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